


tell me how we've grown (for having loved a little while)

by joldiego



Series: the story they will write someday [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Found Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Y'all I am SOFT about these iron kids, adding to the tags as I go, canon-typical violence in ch. 5, some strong language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-09 12:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18638173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joldiego/pseuds/joldiego
Summary: Five times that Morgan reminds Peter of Mr. Stark+One time that Peter reminds Morgan of her dad





	1. Five and Sixteen

**Author's Note:**

> This work contains spoilers for Avengers: Endgame, read at your own risk!

1\. Five and Sixteen

“I really can’t thank you enough for this Peter,” Pepper says as she places her coat on the stand by the front door and tosses her keys in the dish, “You really saved me there.”

The legal red-tape surrounding Tony’s work and patents has been absolute hell since he died, and Pepper oft found herself being called into SI all hours of the day to negotiate contracts and mergers. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem for little Morgan, as Happy or Rhodey would drop whatever they were doing in a _second_ to come and spend time with their favorite little munchkin, but this dreary Sunday afternoon had found Rhodey wrapped up at work and Happy out of state.

Leaving _Peter_ as the only option.

Of course Pepper had reassured him repeatedly that he wasn’t the worst case scenario babysitter, (That honor fell squarely to Sam and Bucky as a unit.) and that she had been planning to set up a more regular schedule for Peter to come up to the farmhouse and spend time with Morgan anyway, but he couldn't help but feel out of his depth when it came to childcare.

Especially when Morgan abandons him and their Lego creations the second that the front door opens to throw her arms around her mother’s knees and squish her face against her pant leg.

Well, he didn’t think that it had gone _that_ badly.

“Oh, no worries, Mrs. Stark! We had a great time, didn’t we Morgan?”

Morgan is decidedly quiet as Pepper looks to her daughter for an answer, smoothing one manicured hand over Morgan’s dark locks.

It hadn’t gone badly at all, it was just… Stilted.

No matter how badly Peter wanted them to hit it off, Morgan just didn’t know him well enough. He had to keep reminding himself that building a relationship with her would take time. Not to mention Peter’s discomfort in caring for small children. He could be fun, he could be entertaining, but when it came to making dinner and getting her ready for bed, he just felt out of place. Like he was invading their home just to play house for a few hours.

He knew that Morgan could sense his hesitation, too. Little kids are like cats, they can smell fear.

“Hey, _Morgoona_ ,” Pepper says softly, kneeling down and running her hands down Morgan’s arms, “What do we say to Peter for watching you tonight?”

Morgan’s eyes remain determinately fixed on the floor as she mumbles, “Thank you, Peter.”

Pepper smiles at him apologetically, “She’s probably just tired,”

“No, yeah, of course,” He gives a wry chuckle, “That’s my fault if anything, I couldn’t get her to fall asleep.”

“Hey, don’t worry, she just-” Pepper weighs her words, “She has nights like this sometimes, we all do.”

And for a second the grief hits them both so hard that Pepper has to take a deep, steadying breath before saying, “Alright Morgan, time to give Peter a hug before he heads out so we can go to bed!”

Morgan looks up at Peter, screwing up her mouth to one side of her tiny face, considering him. And Peter can’t help but feel like her wide, dark eyes, _Tony’s eyes_ , are staring straight through him into his soul because little kids could totally do that.

But then, the loudest Peter’s heard her speak all night, Morgan says, 

“I don’t think we’re there yet.”

_“That’s not a hug, I’m just grabbing the door for you. We’re not there yet.”_

And it’s just so _dry_ and just so _Tony_ that it startles a laugh out of Peter as he meets Pepper’s eyes and can see that she’s thinking the exact same thing.

_She really is her father’s daughter._

He and Pepper keep laughing, weakly hysterical, as she picks up Morgan and puts her on her hip, holding her daughter close as Peter says his goodbyes.

And if both of their eyes are a little glassy as Peter leaves, well, that’s no one’s business but their own.

And it’s not until Peter’s back in his own apartment, getting into bed that he realizes.

That’s the first time he’s laughed since Tony died.


	2. Eight and Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol it's the middle of the night, have another chapter  
> thank you all for being so sweet!

2\. Eight and Nineteen

“Hey, everybody! I’m here!” Peter calls in from the doorway as he starts to let the bitter cold from outside seep from his bones.

“Peter!” Pepper is immediately by his side, as always, taking the bags of gifts from his hands so he can slip out of his winter gear.

Peter hadn’t always hated the winter. He had the vaguest memories of cuddling up with his parents drinking hot cocoa, and building snowmen with Ben. But ever since the spider bite, and the unfortunate fact that spiders couldn’t thermoregulate, he found it impossible to stay warm in the wind-tunnel streets of Queens.

Once Peter resembles a human being rather than the Michelin Man, Pepper pulls him into a tight hug, pressing a warm kiss against his cheek.

“Always good to see you, Mrs. Stark,” he squeezes her right back, “Where’re all the rugrats?”

Pepper immediately grabs him by the shoulders, her eyes alight with amusement as she says, “Oh, you have _got_ to see this!”

She leads him to the living room where Peter is met with nothing short of _absolute chaos._

“I am the evil king of Couch Land!” Clint stands on the couch, a crayon covered paper plate crown perched on his head, while Scott crouches next to him, hunched over and twiddling his fingers like the deranged evil sidekick he is. “And all who reside in the Bean Bag Valley shall feel my wrath before I let any of them get their grubby little hands on the Artifacts of S’more!”

“Yes! You will feel his upholstered wrath!” Scott rasps in a fake, grating voice.

On one side of the room was Clint, Scott, and Cassie guarding what appeared to a small, extravagantly decorated cardboard box filled with marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate. On the other side was Morgan, Lila, Harley, and little Nate, with their assorted Nerf weapons and beanbag chair barricade, each of them decked out in their own paper armor. Peter swore that he could see more Nerf bullets on the ground than he could carpet.

Cooper sits cross-legged on a kitchen chair between the two sides, intently watching the battle unfold with a whistle gripped in his teeth and a tiny notepad in hand, clearly attempting to maintain any semblance of rules that this maniacal game may have started with in the first place.

Peter can’t help but smile as he takes in their audience on the peripheries, mentally taking a tally who in his big found family is present: Hope and Laura rolling their eyes good-naturedly at their husbands’ antics, Bruce absolutely captivated by the plot unfurling in front of him, Sam, Bucky and Rhodey legitimately discussing the strategies playing out on this living room battlefield, even Steve watching with a smile from the big easy chair that he always claimed when they got together.

He knew that the Guardians and Thor were off-planet at the moment, none of them really the type to celebrate Christmas, and that Happy was likely holed up in the kitchen. (Peter had been shocked to discover that among their motley crew, _Happy_ was the most accomplished chef of the bunch, so the big family dinners often fell to him.)

As a whispered countdown arises from the Bean Bag Valley, Peter finds his attention drawn back to the conflict at hand, turning just in time to see Harley and Lila lift Morgan and Nate into the air, holding each smaller child sideways by their waist as they soar across the living room.

“You never told us they could fly!” Cassie quakes with feigned fear as she grabs her father’s hand, tugging him to the ground, leaving evil King Clint at the mercy of his young nemeses. 

Harley launches Morgan into Clint’s arms, causing him to make an exaggerated _oof_ sound as she hits his chest and knocks him backwards onto the couch, while Lila and Nate make quick work of dragging the s’more supplies back to their side of the living room.

Morgan stands triumphantly above her uncle in all her wild-haired, eight-year-old glory, the edge of her foam sword pressed menacingly against her uncle’s throat.

“Just this once, King Couch, I’ll let you live,” Morgan says, mustering her most warrior-like voice, her lip curling in dramatic disdain. In one swift motion, she knocks the crown from his head with the tip of her sword.

“But no way are you invited to our feast, jackass.”

The room _erupts._

Wild cheers from the Bean Bag Valley, even Scott and Cassie swept up in the passion of the moment, Cooper fervently calling a language foul. Sam and Bucky grip each other as they descend into hysterical laughter, Rhodey and Steve each gazing at their niece with glowing pride.

Pepper nudges Peter to point out six-year-old Nate, whose wide eyes hang on Morgan as if she hung the moon and the stars. _Oh, that should be interesting._

Finally, Clint climbs to his feet, his kingdom fallen, mussing up Morgan’s hair as he concedes, “Alright, you little monster, King Couch is banned from the feast. But can Uncle Clint come?”

“I suppose.” Her haughty tone makes Peter grin, as he makes his presence known.

“Glad to see that Queen Morgan is a benevolent ruler!”

“Peter!” Morgan’s on him in a second flat, jumping right into his arms and pulling him close, and Peter can’t help but wince as she yells directly into his ear, “Didja’ see me? Didja’ see me win the battle?!”

“Oh, you know it, Mo! You are the most valiant little warrior in all the galaxy!”

_Just like someone else Peter knows._

Morgan grins at him with pride, and her gap-toothed smile is one of the cutest things Peter’s ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> steve is morgan's sweet old uncle cap, change my mind


	3. Eleven and Twenty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy some hand-wavy science!  
> thank you guys for your sweet comments, it makes me so happy that people enjoy reading this as much as I do writing it!

3\. Eleven and Twenty-Two

“I think you’re gonna need some heavy-duty soap to wash out that mouth, Petey.”

Peter looks up from his web-shooter at Morgan in surprise. “Huh?”

She smirks at his slack expression. “Momma always says that if I talk like that, I’ll have to wash my mouth out with soap.”

_Oh, shoot._

Peter had been so intently focused on his malfunctioning web-shooters that he hadn’t even noticed that he’d been cussing up a blue streak under his breath. Right in the ear-shot of eleven-year-old Morgan, who was rather inconveniently not wearing earmuffs indoors in April.

“Let’s not tell your Mom about that one, okay Mo?”

She shrugs non-committedly. “I’m no narc.”

Peter laughs as he finally puts his web-shooters down for the first time in a few hours, pressing the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. Morgan’s dry humor was always a breath of fresh air when he found himself buried too deep in a project. “You’re the best, Mo.”

“Whatcha’ stuck on, anyway?” She slips down from her chair, briefly abandoning her times tables to observe Peter’s work station.

Peter had long since learned that he didn’t need to patronize Morgan when it came to tech. As long as he gave explanations for each part and its purpose as he went, she picked up the jargon and logic behind the engineering as well as Peter had when he was her age.

His web-shooters, being his most frequently repaired piece of tech, were probably what he worked through with Morgan most often, and at this point, she was familiar with them inside and out.

“I’ve been experimenting with the web-fluid, and my latest version has a tensile strength that’s off-the-charts better than anything I’ve ever developed; That means that stays super strong even when it stretches really far while I’m swinging,” He passes a vial for her to look at, and she holds it up to the light to observe it more closely. “But something about it isn’t interacting well with the launch mechanism, it isn’t moving through the spinnerets fast enough so it keeps jamming it up. At this point, I think it might just be too viscous–uh, too thick to work with the existing launcher.”

Morgan hums in response, picking up one of the devices and turning it over in her hands. In one swift motion, she brings her elbows up onto the lab table, leaning in close to hold the web-shooter right up to her eye to peer into it.

“I should probably just put it up for tonight, at this point I’m just giving myself tunnel vision about the whole thing.” He finally stands up from his work station, reaching over to an adjacent table for a spare rag to wipe down his hands with. “Wanna order in pizza for dinner?”

He looks back over his shoulder for her response, but Morgan is still running her dainty fingers over the different mechanisms, peeling away congealed web fluid with her thumb. “Mo?”

“What if you add more spinneret valves?”

“Huh?”

Morgan finally tears her eyes away from the web-shooter to look up at Peter.

“You might not have to change the formula to increase the tensile strength,” she offers simply, speaking slowly as she measures each of her words. “If each shot is made up of more strands, wouldn’t that make it stronger?”

Peter blinks. His jaw goes slightly slack. He blinks again.

And then he grins.

“Morgan, that’s it!” He’s back in front of her in two quick strides, taking her head in his hands and pressing a sloppy kiss to the center of her forehead. She laughs and squirms away from him, wiping at her face with one hand as she whines, “Peter, that’s _gross!_ ”

“I don’t care, you just solved every single one of my problems!” Morgan beams proudly at him, a slight blush rising on her cheeks.

“Does that mean we can order in Chinese instead?”

“Mo, I owe you my _first-born child._ ”

“So, is that a yes?”

Peter laughs as he jots down specifications for the new spinnerets. “You betcha, kiddo.”

As Morgan packs up her schoolwork, an extra skip in her step at having solved Peter’s riddle, he lets the awe that he often feels around her wash over him, accompanied by a dull pain in his chest as he thinks, _I wish that Tony could be here to see this._

But just as quickly he realizes, Tony _is_ with her.

In her nimble fingers and quick, analytical mind. Her ability to see the big picture. She’s the best parts of Tony and Pepper all wrapped into one.

_The world’s not gonna know what hit it._

“Peter?” Morgan shrugs on her backpack, eyeing him strangely as he realizes that he’s staring. “What, do I have something on my face?”

Peter chuckles as he reaches out and ruffles her hair.

“Nah, Mo, I was just thinking about all the dumplings we’re gonna order.”


	4. Fourteen and Twenty-Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but the next chapter is already written (and it's a doozie) so I should be posting it tonight!  
> thanks for reading and for your sweet comments, my lovely friends!

4\. Fourteen and Twenty-Five

Peter and Pepper stood side by side, glaring at the envelope on the table in front of them.

She had called him out of R&D as soon as she spotted it.

_Midtown School of Science and Technology._

It wasn’t that they thought Morgan wouldn’t get in, she was sharp as a tack and she had the test scores to prove it.

It was just that Morgan had been waiting for this letter for _months_ , counting down the days, sleeping every night in one of Peter’s old oversized MSST t-shirts.

And the day was finally here.

“Do you have a steamer? We could totally open it, she wouldn’t even–”

“Don’t even think about it, Parker.”

“I know! It’s not like– I mean, it’s just–” He sighs, running a hand over his face, “You know?”

“I know.”

Then, they hear a key in the front door.

“Oh, shit!” Peter flounders for a moment, so Pepper grabs his hand and tugs him halfway up the staircase, hiding them from the view from the kitchen, but at the perfect angle that they can still see the envelope sitting innocently on the table.

“Mom, I’m home!” He hears Morgan shut the door behind her, a heavy _thunk_ as she drops her backpack to the floor. “Mom?”

They can’t see the moment that she spots the envelope, but they see the reverent way that she picks it up with both hands, running her thumb over the blue and yellow printed seal on the corner.

Pepper squeezes his hand.

Morgan gently works one finger under the sealed flap, moving slowly as if not to tear it. She takes a deep breath and slides the letter out, unfolding it, and _holy shit, Peter cannot breathe._

Morgan lets out a shuddering breath, and Peter’s heart stops as he realizes that _she’s crying._

He and Pepper exchange wide-eyed looks, gripping each other in shock.

But then she laughs through her tears, wetly whispers, _“Fuck, yeah!”_ and Peter feels the weight of the world lift off his shoulders.

In the next second, he and Pepper are thundering down the stairs, cheering at the top of their lungs, startling the hell out of poor Morgan, wrapping her up in a big hug.

“God, were you guys sitting there the whole time?” Her voice is muffled from where her face is buried in Pepper’s shoulder, but he can tell that she's smiling.

“You can’t prove anything.” He presses a kiss into her hair, running his hand up and down her arm.

" _Losers._ "

They go out for milkshakes to celebrate, and as Pepper is paying at the counter, Peter and Morgan slide into a booth. She’s babbling about a robotics course that she plans to take and Peter is shocked by how she’s just such a _person_. She’s a real, grown person and she’s about to do some very real things with her life. He voices this thought to her in the only way he can.

“When didja’ get so grown up, huh?”

She smirks at him, “Oh, don’t act like you had nothing to do with this.”

“ _Smartass,_ " He shoves her shoulder playfully. “No, for real though, I’m being serious. I am so proud of you. You’re gonna kick ass at Midtown Tech, and I can’t wait to see it.”

“I’m being serious, too, Peter,” He shoots her a questioning glance. “Come on, who was it who taught me how to build my first engine? Who entertained my questions no matter how tight a deadline they were on? Peter, you’re my big brother. You _helped_ me do this, so thank you.”

The words echo in his head.

_Peter, you’re my big brother. Big brother. Brother._

He throws an arm over her shoulders, drawing her in close, “You always know just what to say, Mo,”

 _Just like your dad,_ goes ringing unsaid, in the forefront of his mind.

Then Pepper returns to the booth, tray of milkshakes in hand, and they celebrate until they all give themselves brain-freezes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys im so soft about peter and pepper's relationship


	5. Seventeen and Twenty-Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry DDD:  
> warning for some canon-typical violence, injuries, and strong language in this chapter (I think I'm gonna bump the rating up to T)  
> this one's a bit angstier than previous chapters, but I promise that the next will be more fluff!  
> and seriously guys, I cannot thank you enough for your comments, every single one makes me smile so big  
> lots of love to you all!!!

5\. Seventeen and Twenty-Eight

_How could Peter have let this happen?_

He and Morgan were walking back to Stark Industries after making a late-night burger run.

_God, this was all his fault._

He had been walking backward in front of her, not too concerned about colliding with any oncoming pedestrians this time of night, teasing her about Nate’s _obvious_ crush on her.

_She looks so small, asleep in the hospital bed. Her black eye even more gnarly and purple against the crisp white sheets. Her left arm dwarfed by a bulky red cast._

He had been so relaxed, so at ease for once, that he hadn’t even seen it coming.

But Morgan had.

She rushed at Peter with her full body, shoving him out of the way, just as a man in a dark hoodie charged up behind him with a crowbar raised above his head.

She brought up her arms to protect her head as he brought the weapon down, but it still hit her left forearm with a sickening crack.

Morgan went down like a sack of potatoes, her head connecting with a parking meter as she fell.

It almost happens too fast for Peter to process, but he processes enough.

He processes: _Morgan hit, Morgan hurt, Morgan bleeding unconscious on the ground._

And he’s on that bastard in a second.

Looking back on it, his recollection of the fight that follows is somewhat fuzzy, if you could even call it a fight, that is.

The man’s face is suddenly a mess of blood and bruises, the crowbar long forgotten on the ground.

He yells as his ribs crack under the pressure that Peter is using to pin him against the wall.

“I’m sorry, man! I’m sorry!”

“What do you want? _Huh?!_ ” Peter can barely recognize his own voice. “What the _fuck_ do you want?!”

“I just wanted your wallet, man! God, I’m sorry, just please let go! That fucking _hurts!_ ”

So Peter does.

But not before he sucker punches the asshole right in the nose, feeling it break under his fist with a satisfying _crunch_ as he’s knocked out cold.

Back in the medical wing of Stark Tower, Peter still hasn’t stopped shaking.

He’s pacing in the hall outside of Morgan’s room after Pepper had scolded him for practically wearing a hole through the floor at the foot of the hospital bed.

To the untrained observer, Pepper would've seemed calm and collected by the time she had arrived at the tower, but Peter knew her too well.

He could see her red-rimmed eyes, the tension in her shoulders that didn’t release until she laid eyes on her daughter.

He could also spot the wariness in her eyes as she glanced at Peter while she spoke to the police about the incident over the phone, learning exactly what state Peter had left their friendly, neighborhood mugger in.

_That wouldn’t be a fun conversation._

Helen Cho had assured them both that Morgan had only suffered a minor radial fracture that should be all healed up within three months, along with a minor concussion that she should recover from within two weeks.

Peter tries to sit himself down in one of the chairs right outside the door, but he’s still practically vibrating with nervous energy. His stomach growls, and he realizes that he and Morgan hadn’t gotten the chance to eat their burgers, but the thought of eating now makes him feel absolutely sick.

He buries his face in his hands. _This feeling fucking sucks._

Then, he hears a commotion from inside the room.

He’s on his feet in a second, bursting in, ready for a fight.

Of course, there is no fight. Morgan is halfway out of bed, breathing hard, her eyes wild as Pepper grasps her shoulders, trying to lie her back down.

“See, he’s right there, honey,” Pepper placates urgently, “ _Morgoona_ , Peter’s just fine.”

Morgan’s eyes fill with tears as all the fight leaves her body.

“ _Peter!_ ” With just one word, Peter feels his heart shatter.

_This is your fault. You couldn’t protect her._

He quickly files in on the other side of the bed and Morgan buries her face in the crook of his neck as he wraps his arms around her, the ache in his chest growing exponentially the more she cries.

He climbs into bed next to her, letting her curl into his side. Pepper holds onto Morgan’s free hand, gently stroking her thumb across her daughter’s knuckles.

Eventually, as Morgan’s sobs subside, Peter finds himself unable to look away from the nasty bruise on her face.

“What is it?” She voice is still thick and gravelly with tears.

“That’s just quite the shiner, Mo.”

“ _Ah._ Well, does it make me look tough?”

“You are _such_ a little shit,” Peter chuckles wetly.

They all sit there for a while, content for the moment to simply breathe in each other’s presences.

But Peter’s mind is still racing. He looks helplessly at Pepper, always one step ahead of him, who stands to leave, saying that she’s going to go and tell Helen that her patient is awake before giving him a nod that says, _go ahead_. So once she’s gone, he takes the plunge and asks.

“Morgan why would you put yourself in danger like that?” Watery brown eyes peer back at him.

“You were gonna get hurt.” She says it almost defiantly, as though it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“But you know I heal faster, I could’ve taken that hit and been fine.”

“But you didn’t have to.” Peter sighs. _This kid._

“Morgan, you’re my little sister, it’s my job to protect you from people like that, I need you to let me do it.”

“But that doesn’t mean you have to get hurt for me.”

“ _Um_ , that’s _exactly_ what it means.” She narrows her eyes at him.

“Peter, I knew what I was doing–”

“What? _Nuh-uh_.”

“Uh, _yuh-huh_.”

“Nope. You do not get to pretend that you thought this through. And please, for the love of god, leave the jumping in front of crazed men with crowbars to those of us who can heal a broken bone in a day.”

Morgan sighs, collapsing back into the pillows, knowing that this is not an argument that she can win.

“Okay, so I maybe I didn’t exactly, _think it through–_ ”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“ _Hush_.” She fiddles with the hem of her blanket before purposefully meeting Peter’s gaze with her own. “But I wouldn’t go back and change it.”

The sincerity and conviction in her voice send a chill down Peter’s spine.

_God, that hero complex is gonna be the death of her. Just like–_ fuck.

_Just like him._

It’s almost as if Morgan can sense Peter’s spiraling panic from where she’s pressed against his side, because she shifts until she can hold up her bright-red casted arm between them, letting it fall heavily onto Peter’s chest, making him go, “ _Oomph._ ”

“Plus, I’m gonna make this cast look totally dope. We’re gonna make it work for me.”

_This fucking kid._

Peter can’t help it. Emotions have been running high for the past few hours, he loses it a little bit. If he laughs a little bit too hysterically, if he holds Morgan just a little bit closer as he laughs, and if the few tears that escape his eyes aren’t the result of her dumb little joke, Morgan doesn’t say anything about it.

She just lets him hold her and wipes away his tears with her free hand.

“You know, I’ll draft MJ on it. Then until you get it taken off, you’ll have a detailed sketch of me, _mid-crisis_ , on your left forearm, and maybe it’ll keep you from pulling any more stunts like this.”

“ _Maybe_ ,” Morgan smirks. “But you know how much pleasure I take in making you go gray at twenty-eight.”

Peter sighs. He thinks that he finally understands how Tony felt, watching a sixteen-year-old Peter put his life on the line every night, the only thing between him and certain death a spandex onesie and a plucky attitude.

He finally understands the deep-seated panic. The urge to protect. The love.

He wants nothing more than to swaddle up his baby sister in heavy-duty bubble wrap, hiding her away from the big, big world, and all its many threats.

But as Morgan sinks comfortably into his side, her features relaxing as she drifts off to sleep, Peter knows that he won’t be able to stand in her way.

_She’s a Stark, through and through._

_And Starks are heroes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D: i rly put our iron babes through the wringer with that one  
> sad little tidbit of the day: the track in the endgame score that's playing when Tony dies is called "You Did Good"  
> damn if that one doesn't hurt
> 
> only one more chapter to go, my loves!


	6. Five and Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said in the last chapter that this would be fluff, but it turned out a bit more hurt/comfort in the end, but since it is about a young child's journey with grief, I feel like that's a bit more fitting anyway

+1. Five and Sixteen

There are a lot of things that Morgan Stark doesn’t understand.

She understands that the sky is blue because of the Earth’s atmosphere, that birds can fly because their bones are hollow, and she understands that her Daddy isn’t coming home.

She doesn’t quite understand _why_ Daddy can’t come home. _Daddy is a superhero, he can do anything._

When she asks Happy if he can go pick him up in his car, Happy gets a funny look on his face, and Momma takes Morgan into another room, gently explaining that, _no, no one can bring Daddy home anymore._

So, while Morgan doesn’t know where he went, she knows for certain that he’s staying there.

And that everyone misses him a whole bunch.

Especially Peter.

Morgan meets Peter on the day that Momma makes her put on an itchy black dress, and lots of people come to their house in equally itchy and dark clothing.

Lots of people who aren’t Daddy.

The air is thick with emotion and it makes Morgan feel like she’s suffocating on all soft cries and breathy laughs; So she slips away to the empty kitchen, scrambling up onto one of the big wooden chairs, away from the unfamiliar voices saying over and over, “Wow, she really does look just like him.”

Morgan doesn’t know why, but her face feels too hot and her head aches, so she rests her cheek on the cool surface of the kitchen table and finds that she can breathe a little bit easier. She closes her eyes, focusing on the grounding feeling.

When she opens them, there’s a boy standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

He’s peering at her with his brow furrowed, and he starts when Morgan opens her eyes. He shuffles his feet for a moment before sitting down across from her at the table.

She sighs, waiting for the cooing and patronizing that she’s been met with for the entire afternoon.

But it doesn’t come, he just sits.

So Morgan does too.

Eventually, she replaces her face on the table, now with her eyes open to keep an eye on her new companion.

“It’s all bit much in there, huh?” She tilts her head to get a better look at him, resting her chin on her arm. He’s not pitching up his voice or plastering on a fake smile. She’s being spoken to like a person for the first time all day.

So she nods at him. _He is right, anyway._

He gives her a small smile, a _real_ smile. “I know the feeling. I’m Peter, by the way.”

“I’m Morgan.” His smile gets a little bigger.

“It’s nice to meet you, Morgan.”

They sit there for a while longer, and Morgan relishes in the silence, letting the muffled voices from the next room wash over her like white noise.

She doesn’t understand why Peter stays, but she likes that she’s not alone.

Morgan doesn’t see Peter for a little while after that, and she almost forgets him until he becomes one of her many rotating babysitters.

And she likes him a lot.

It takes her a little bit to warm up to him, he’s awkward at times, like he doesn't know quite what to do with her, but he doesn’t patronize her the way that the other grown-ups in her life often do.

And of course, there’s the rather dramatic moment when Morgan tells Peter one of her favorites of Daddy’s stories over a bowl of mac and cheese: The story of Spiderman.

Peter’s eyes go wide, and his spoon clatters against the counter when it slips from his grasp, so Morgan looks at him in surprise.

He stutters as he says, “He–I mean, you know about Spiderman?”

“He’s Daddy’s favorite superhero.”

Peter laughs at that, but his laughter sounds funny, like he’s choking on it, and he looks at Morgan in a way that she can’t decipher.

And that’s the one thing that Morgan doesn’t understand about Peter.

Sometimes he looks at Morgan like she makes him sad.

They’ll be doing something inane like eating cereal or playing with her Legos, and suddenly Peter looks at her and his eyes go glassy and his voice goes thick, and it makes Morgan’s stomach twist in a way that she doesn’t like.

She asks her Momma about it once, but as soon as she does, Momma gets the same look on her face as Peter.

“Oh, my _Morgoona_ ,” Momma pulls Morgan up on her lap, holding her close, “You know when you’re missing Daddy real bad, when you get sad in your heart, like you told me?”

Morgan nods.

“Well, Peter misses Daddy real bad, too. And you remind Peter of Daddy a lot.”

Morgan feels her heart drop. “I make Peter sad?”

“No! Honey, never, Peter loves spending time with you. He just– Oh, gosh.” Momma bites her lip, thinking. “When Peter looks at you like that, he’s not being sad _at_ you, he’s being sad _with_ you, if that makes sense. He’s missing Daddy for both of you.”

Morgan furrows her brow. She doesn’t really understand, but the more that they talk, the more upset Momma looks, so she nods and says, “Okay.”

Momma hugs Morgan just a little bit tighter when she tucks her into bed that night.

And that’s the end of that, until a few days later when Morgan has a nightmare.

She has them often enough, but she’s never had one while Peter was taking care of her.

It’s the same one that she’s had again and again since her Daddy went away; Morgan is lost in a dense crowd of people, but she can see Daddy a few paces ahead of her. He’s walking briskly so she can barely keep up, and no matter how loudly she yells for him, he never turns around.

She jolts upward in bed, trying to take in deep gulps of air between hiccupping sobs, her hair clinging to her forehead with cold sweat.

And Peter is right there.

For once, his actions are steady and sure. He climbs into bed beside her, pulling her into his lap and holding her against his chest.

And he doesn’t say anything.

He holds her while she cries, and keeps holding her once she’s stopped.

She rests her head against his heart, listening to its steady beat.

For a moment, in Peter’s embrace, she can pretend that it’s her Daddy’s, carrying her up to bed after she’s interrupted his late night work.

They would’ve grabbed juice pops from the freezer, blue raspberry for Morgan and cherry for Daddy. He would’ve tucked her into bed, and she would’ve told him that _she loves him 3000_.

But Morgan is sure that wherever Daddy is, he knows. _He's smart like that._

So she as she drifts off to sleep, she knows that she’s as safe in Peter’s arms as she always was in Daddy’s, that Peter knows exactly what she’s going through.

Morgan understands that her Daddy is gone, but she knows that she’s going to be okay.

_After all, Daddy sent her another superhero to look after her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for sticking with me through my first fic!  
> i've been an avid reader for many years, and endgame was the thing that finally pushed me to write my own  
> i can't thank you enough for all your kudos and lovely comments, i read every single one and they all make me so so happy!!
> 
> I have big plans for this series, i have ideas for a lot of character pieces about the iron kids, the bartons, and cassie that will likely be one-shots, and also a non fix-it time travel fic that's already in the works!! they'll all be posted in this series, so stay tuned for that! especially since summer is coming up, i'll have lots of time to write!
> 
> thank you so much again for reading, my loves!
> 
> edit: just posted the next work in this series! go check it out!

**Author's Note:**

> title is from Hello My Old Heart by The Oh Hellos


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